Classic Poem

I have a tale to tell you
of music and language,
extolling the playing of the pipe
and the speaking of Gaelic—
which nowadays are becoming
common everywhere,
enhancing the glory of the kingdom
from which we sprang.

'Tis spoken by each parish minister
in all special districts,
correctly giving us the Bible record,
the rule of religion;
'tis on the lips of every poet
expounding poetics;
'tis best for valued panegyric
and real invective.

'Tis virile, forceful, vigorous
for valiant, doughty gentlemen;
on occasion of exploit or prowess,
'tis the most eloquent then and there;
'tis gentle in generous dealings
for translating its warm words into action;
'tis superb for analysing argument,
to render witless people silent.

'Tis accomplished, informed, kindly,
apt, solicitous and tender;
spoken or heard, 'tis admirable
for wreathing the teeth of all in smiles;
in daffing and in conversation,
in raising gladness, mirth and wit,
'tis genial, gracious, courteous,
in the mouth of every modest person.

Gaelic and the pipe are attaining
to great respect in the land of the Gaels;
pre-eminence among all types of music
the pipe itself has, with good reason:
resonantly and precisely it articulates
each warbling tune that issues from its throat;
'tis it that plays most sweetly and most loudly,
no other music can be heard beside it.

Melodious to hear is that droning,
when a blast is blown into its bag,
and, when he who tunes it, has adjusted
the lofty drones in their correct relation;
plaintively it plays a lament,
cheerily it plays a salute,
theme and variation trippingly,
then the finale, ere it repose in silence.

It has two functions—music and war alarm,
'tis cheery on the march or at the halt;
'twas ever in front of each castle,
promenading with furious abandon;
and once they let it fall into disuse,
discarding it save in odd places;
now 'tis fittingly in fashion,
and certain to remain thus for ever.

Mistress of all instruments of music
is this new pipe, now come to us,
which will put experts on their mettle,
nor will they quit without grim trial.
The man who wins it will be famous:
'tis an honour to his birth-place and his friends,
that he should be the bearer of this pipe,
to waken us to-morrow morning.